


The Art of Saving Souls

by Serenade



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Artists, Gen, Historical, Identity Porn, Modeling, Sculpture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/pseuds/Serenade
Summary: Statues of fallen angels are all the rage. Crowley and Aziraphale decide to get in on that.





	The Art of Saving Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fenellaevangela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenellaevangela/gifts).



_1848\. The Street of Artists, Antwerp._

Statues of fallen angels were all the rage. Every church and cathedral wanted one. No more cheerful cherubs or serene seraphs. The fashion was for demons. Muscular men with bat wings, classically nude except for strategic drapery. They were meant to serve as dire warnings to the devout: chained in hell and suffering eternal torment. But somehow, they had a vitality and sensuality that made falling from grace look like a good time.

They were what you might call handsome devils.

Crowley reasoned, if the faithful could be tempted by accidentally alluring statues, how much better would be deliberately diabolical statues? He could pose for one. He was the genuine article. All he had to do was take on an attractive human form, and find someone who needed a model.

Besides, any job that involved lounging around on a couch, sounded like his kind of gig.

"Lift your chin a bit, will you?" the sculptor said. "You're falling into shadow."

That was the point, Crowley wanted to retort. But no one wanted an incomplete statue. He tilted his chin up and tried to smile seductively. Maybe he could cut out the middleman, and awaken base desires in the sculptor himself. But he seemed utterly absorbed in his work, slowly tapping away at the marble block, a frown of concentration creasing his forehead.

This was considerably duller than expected.

Crowley fell asleep.

***

Statues of fallen angels were all the rage. Every church and cathedral wanted one. But whether by accident or design, they were too good at being bad. They distracted the congregation during sermons, filling their minds with sinful thoughts.

Aziraphale reasoned, if the faithful were being tempted by fatally flawed statues, how much better would be angelically artistic statues? He could carve one. He had divine inspiration. All he had to do was take on a skilful human form, and find someone to be a model.

No one had ever mentioned how difficult sculpture was. He had thought a flaming sword was hard to master, but the hammer and chisel were proving a challenge. Michelangelo made it look so easy. It was all very well for him to say, "Carve away everything that isn't the statue." There were no dotted lines to follow.

The model yawned and stretched. It really didn't help that he kept moving. It would be unfortunate if the statue ended up with three arms. The model seemed like an easily bored young man. Maybe that was why, despite his dashing good looks, he was not already the muse of some renowned artist.

Aziraphale positioned the chisel with great care, and brought down the hammer with a sharp tap.

The statue lost a chunk of drapery.

Aziraphale hoped no one would notice.

***

_2018\. The Museum of Fine Arts, Brussels._

Crowley and Aziraphale sat in the mezzanine overlooking the main floor, working their way through a pot of strong black tea and a delectable rosewater sponge. It was a pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon, discussing the state of human souls, and their successes and setbacks in that regard.

The new exhibit had drawn a crowd. They had to crane their necks to see past the press of people.

"The Repentant Devil," the museum guide said, "was commissioned for the Cathedral of the Blessed Heart. However, it was soon removed due to public outcry. It was only recently rediscovered in the catacombs below. Considered provocative for its time--"

Provocative was one word for it. The white marble statue depicted a fallen angel reclined upon the ground, in a deeply satisfied sleep. An expression of pure bliss lay on his slumbering features. Not so much repentant as oblivious.

"Well," Crowley said, "it's a change from the usual suggestive shackled demons."

"As it happens," Aziraphale said, modestly, "I might have had a hand in bringing about this work of art. And I can assure you, the sculptor had only the noblest of thoughts in mind when making it."

"Really," Crowley said. "Well, as it happens, I might have had a hand in it too. And I can tell you, there was nothing noble about the way the sculptor looked at his model."

"How like a demon," Aziraphale said, but without heat, only fondness. "The human body is sacred and sublime--"

"--and something to be celebrated," Crowley finished. He recalled exactly where else he had heard those words, and seen that dreamlike expression.

They stared at each other in sudden wild surmise.

**Author's Note:**

> One famous example of a fallen angel statue is ["Le génie du mal"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_g%C3%A9nie_du_mal), also known as "The Genius of Evil" or "The Lucifer of Liège".


End file.
